Nights In Red Satin
by Gray Doll
Summary: "She knew it was never meant to be simple. She knew it was never meant to be a fairytale. This didn't mean she didn't want it to. But sometimes, she thought, it came close enough. And these times were among the most precious things in her life." A RJ/Lisbon/Jane triangle.
1. Caught Red-Handed

**Nights In Red Satin**

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_A.N. / A series of one-shots and drabbles featuring the AU, extremely unlikely to happen romantic relationship between our beloved Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon and our not-so-beloved serial killer. Just an exploration... There will also be Jane/Lisbon._

_Some chapters will be 100 word drabbles, others will be longer chapters. They do not follow a chronological order. Some will be light and fluffy, others will be dark and angsty._

_Just to clear up any confusion, in this story RJ isn't one of Jane's seven suspects._

_Reviews are love._

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**1. Caught Red-Handed**

The pub was small and dingy.

It made sense that a woman like Amy Whites would work in a place like this -neither her family nor her acquaintances had praised her choice of lifestyle when questioned by the CBI team, and had pointed out several off-the-road, disreputable locations as her usual haunts.

Teresa Lisbon wrinkled her nose as she pushed the heavy wooden door open and slowly stepped inside the dark pub. She felt several sets of eyes following her as she swiftly made her way to the bar, cutting through the heavy cigarette smoke, and her hand instinctively came to rest against her hip, where her gun was safely holstered.

She repeated her list of questions in her head; _What was your relationship with Amy Whites_? W_hen did you last see her_? _Do you know anyone who would want to harm her_? Jane had refused, yet again, to cooperate with the rest of the team and had decided to try and work this case out on his own. As much as she hated to admit it, Lisbon knew he would eventually succeed, with his unorthodox but annoyingly unerring methods.

It had become a matter of pride, to solve this case without Jane's help this time, with proper, _lawful_ police work.

Lisbon had just managed to push through a tight cluster of smoking teenagers and was only a few feet away from the bar when she felt a strong hand wrap tightly around her bicep and pull her backwards.

She spun around, ready to punch the stranger in the face if needed, but froze in her spot when she saw him.

"What the-"

"No time to explain, get in the car."

Lisbon frowned. "What?"

He smirked playfully, still holding her tightly by the right arm. "I've always wanted to say that. Though I must admit, right now it sounded terribly out of context. Never mind, follow me."

She nailed her feet to the ground and pulled her arm, struggling to free herself from his grasp but to no avail. Her eyes darted around fearfully, but she was relieved -and equally surprised- to see that no one was paying them any attention. Perhaps displays such as this were common thing here.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"You won't believe me if I say I just happened to pass by, right?"

She rolled her eyes and gave another pull, less forceful this time. "For God's sake, let go of my arm! And tell me, why on earth are you here?"

"Oh come on, we don't have much time to waste -besides, Patrick will be here any minute."

Lisbon's eyes widened. "_What_? Jane's coming here? How did he-"

"I think you underestimate him, love," he crooned, and then without the slightest warning spun her around. He started striding through the flocks of people, drifting her across the pub with him and towards the unwelcoming door of the lavatory.

"Hey -_hey_! Were are we going?"

"I think it's obvious," he said airily. "I'd appreciate it if you walked just a bit faster, as I said we don't have much time."

"Much time for _what_?" Lisbon was growing more agitated with each passing second. He allowed him to lead her inside the dark, humid restroom, wishing not to make a spectacle of herself out in the crowd and fully intending to chastise him when they would finally be alone.

Once the door behind them was closed and they were left in relative darkness, she stomped her foot on the slippery tiled floor and refused to move any further. "Will you now tell me, what game you're-"

"No game," he breathed as he pulled her forward again. It took her by surprise and she stumbled, and she would have surely fallen face first on the mucky tiles had he not caught her mid-air.

"Careful now," he chuckled and before she had a chance to straighten herself up he had shoved her inside the toilet cabin furthest from the door and locked the plywood door behind him, leaving them both in complete, dewy darkness. The chatter and clatters of the habitues came muffled from outside the restroom, and Lisbon doubted anyone would hear her even if she tried to scream.

She knew she wouldn't, though.

She groaned (In pleasure or frustration? Or maybe both?) as he pushed her up against the wall and fumbled with the zipper of her black jeans.

"Don't you dare-"

"Oh, shut up." It was low and playful, accompanied by a soft bite at the base of her neck, and Lisbon lost all will to go.

"God, why are you so-" she was cut off by a small moan when she felt him hoist her legs up and around his hips and shove her harder up and against the wall. "Why _here_?"

He gave her a soft peck on the lips and pulled back only slightly, but enough for her to see the passionate glint in his eye. "You said you're full at work this week, and I'll be abroad during the week after."

He arched an eyebrow at her, as if his vague answer was explanatory enough, and she simply rolled her eyes. She had long ago stopped trying to question his whims and caprices -as long as they were relatively harmless. A deep moan escaped her lips when he finally thrust inside her, and she threw her head back, allowing his lips and tongue to explore her neck and collarbone. She titled her hips forward, striving to give him better access. "_Oh_-"

The restroom door suddenly burst open and she made out the voices of two men among the incoherent clatter of the people outside. She stilled immediately and was about to let out a shocked yelp but his hand was quick on her mouth, preventing her from making any sound.

Her eyes widened when she heard one of the men speak up. "So this is were you found Amy's suicidal letter?"

The voice was painfully familiar. Lisbon's eyes searched around frantically for John's, and when she finally found them, the laughter in them made her want to both kiss and slap him.

"Aye," the second man answered dryly, clearly bored out of his mind. "I told ya already, I came here last night to mop the floors and saw the paper stuck on the mirror."

"I see..." Jane's voice was contemplative. "Now that we're alone... Are you sure, Mr. Adams, that you have never attempted to get Amy to sleep with you?"

"What? Hell, man, no! Where did that come from?"

Lisbon saw the corner of John's mouth lift into a smirk. 'He's good,' he mouthed, and she couldn't help but feel irritation starting to build up in her head again.

What she felt was a mixture of shock, terror and thrill. Shock because of all the people she might have expected to burst into this particular restroom, Jane hadn't been particularly high on her list; terror because of the possibility of getting caught pinned up against the wall with John buried inside her; and thrill because of the tingling pleasure she felt between her legs, because of the needs that she wanted fulfilled, here and now.

She stared at John, as if expecting him to do something to get her out of this precarious situation. A wicked look graced his features as the second man, who was probably the barman, was heard fumbling with words as Jane slowly but surely cornered him, further inquiring about the victim.

Lisbon thought her eyes would pop out of their niches. Her frantic attempts to get a reaction out of John, other than this God-damned gaiety, were irritably reduced to bulging her eyes at him, as he still had his hand securely over her mouth.

She contemplated biting him, but she knew she'd probably just hurt herself if she tried.

Finally, he seemed to grow tired of their situation. He leaned forward and placed his lips against her ear, then whispered a barely audible "_Want them to leave_?"

Lisbon nodded with all her might, and practically groaned when she heard him chuckle quietly into her ear.

"Come now, Mr. Adams, if you admit it it'll be much easier to-"

John shifted slightly inside her and let out a soft moan that was enough to render her immobile again. Her eyes widened in terror. _What the hell are you doing_? She mentally shouted at him, but he only smirked.

From outside their booth, Jane was cut mid-sentence. A heavy silence filled the bathroom, during which Lisbon could clearly hear her heart hammering wildly against her ribcage.

"Seems like we're not alone in here!" Jane's voice was cheery and amused, a contrast to his previous accusatory tone. "Oops! Well, Mr. Adams, I think we should leave..."

A heavy thud was heard as the barman, Mr. Adams, heavily pummeled the flimsy plywood door. "God damn it, it's not a fucking brothel in here, ya hear me?"

"Oh, come on, give the couple some rest!" Jane drawled, and Lisbon could hear the grin in his voice. She didn't want to imagine what he would sound like if he knew who the couple consisted of.

"Be done with it!" The barman shouted and Lisbon held her breath, listening to his heavy footfalls as he made for the door, murmuring incoherently under his breath.

The door creaked slightly when it was pulled open and before she heard it close, a jocund "Sorry!" resonated in the small restroom, unmistakeably coming from Jane.

By the time they were alone once again, Lisbon wasn't sure whether it was plain inconvenience or terrible, painful guilt that was gnawing at her.


	2. Pretty Tragedienne

**2. Pretty Tragedienne **

She had never agreed to this.

Lisbon could remember, with aching clarity, the moment he had proposed to send Lorelei to Jane. She could also remember her own firm protests.

"He will never fall for that," was her first argument, and though she vehemently believed Jane was indeed too smart to be fooled by one of John's pretty puppets, she immediately regreted her words. They made her feel like an abettor in his mind games.

_Aren't you?_ An unwelcome, seething voice resonated in her head. _Aren't you an __accessary__? You talk with him, eat with him, _sleep_ with him, the man who killed his family_.

Lisbon shook her head, as if to shake it off, that intruding, balefully square voice that reminded her of what she had become.

"No," he said, "he most certainly won't fall for it. But he'll try to make me believe that he has."

Lisbon frowned, her complicity blissfully (and only momentarily) forgotten. "Why would he do that?"

He smiled, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Because, love, he'd do _anything_ to get a lead on me. He's already proved that, hasn't he?"

She remained silent, waiting for him to elaborate.

"He'd do anything," he repeated. "Even sleep with one of my accomplices. Even fake a breakdown in order to make me believe he's truly given up on me -which, trust me, love, he hasn't."

Lisbon's jaw practically dropped. "_Fake_ a breakdown?"

His smile widened; a smile of glee and mischief. "Don't tell me you've bought it."

She was stunned into a shocked silence, unable to believe that everything (Jane's recent hopelessness, his ache, his madness) had been yet another trick.

"You shouldn't be angry," he said slowly. "He's only doing it because he thinks it'll bring him a step closer to me. A probably smart, but not very well planned little scheme." He shook his head affably, smiling as if observing the botchy drawing of a five-year old who yearned for praise and whose feelings he didn't want to hurt.

Lisbon could only stare at him. She felt her whole go body numb as realization slowly dawned on her.

"If... If you know he's faking it," she finally spoke, her voice low and tremulous, "why send Lorelei? Why... offer him your _friendship_? You know he'll never-"

"Oh, but he will. Not really, but at least he'll pretend to be considering my offer. Don't you see, love? This is all for him."

"How the _hell_ is this all for him?"

"He deserves some hope, even if it's false. Can't you see? I -through Lorelei, of course- will give him that. I can make him believe, even for a little while, that he's getting closer. Just think of how he'll feel, love-"

"So this is all because _you want Jane to be happy_?" She snapped, eyes shooting daggers at him. "Or is it because you got bored and you want to play mind games?"

"Teresa-"

"Don't _Teresa_ me!" Her voice was a venomous hiss. "You _won't_ do that! This is... You can't send a woman to... to fuck him in order to make him think you've bought his story!"

He studied her for a second, making her want to squirm under his hard gaze. "Is it because you think it will backfire, or because you're jealous?"

This took her by surprise. Until now she had successfully managed to ignore the part of her that wanted to scream at the thought of Jane with another woman. It scared her -she wasn't ready to deal with thoughts like this, not under such circumstances.

"Jealous of what?" She asked after a few seconds of stunned silence, trying with all her might to look offended but also keeping her voice relatively pleasant, sensing he was growing irate with every passing second.

"_Don't_ play coy with me, love. You can't bear the thought of your _precious_ Patrick in the arms of another woman-"

"I think _you_ are the jealous one now! Can't you keep your delusions about me and Jane out of the conversation for just one time?"

"Lorelei _will_ go to Vegas," he said firmly, and Lisbon frowned.

"He's in _Vegas_?"

He only nodded, looking at her sharply, almost challengingly. "I trust you don't have any problem with that. Since you seem so _convinced_ you're not at all jealous..."

Lisbon hadn't said another word that night -not that he'd given her the chance. He'd left the room as soon as their exchange had ended, leaving her alone with the skein that was her thoughts and emotions.

As she stood now, watching Lorelei smirk at Jane behind the interrogation table, she had to fight to keep a tear from running down her cheek. And when she saw them kiss, she tried to remind herself that she had no right to feel betrayed.

She knew she hadn't.

But it didn't make it any less painful.


	3. Like A Mirror

_A.N / First of all, I want to thank you all for reading thus far, and especially those who reviewed. Honestly, I had no idea whether anyone would be interested in this particular pairing, since it is indeed quite peculiar and somehow creepy to think of our heroine with a serial killer, but the idea just wouldn't leave my mind. The reason behind Lisbon's choices will be revealed - although maybe covertly - as the story goes on. Even from this chapter you might be able to discern a reason, but you'll have to squint a bit... Also, just a reminder that the chapters (that seem to have taken a drabble turn) do _not_ strictly follow a set chronological order._

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**3. Like A Mirror**

She had lost.

Again.

"Now this is just unfair," she huffed, slumping back into the pillows and folding her arms loosely about her chest.

"Just admit I'm a better player than you," he laughed, then leaned forward to gather the scattered cards and shuffle them.

"No, you're not a better player, you just cheated." She fixed her gaze on his nimble fingers tossing the cards and catching them again mid-air, and a small pout formed on her lips.

"How dare you!" He sounded hurt, but Lisbon had had enough practice on this field to be able to discern the traces of joviality in his voice. "I never cheat. You're just not as good as you think you are."

"Oh, right." She rolled her eyes and he winked at her, causing her to chuckle involuntarily. "Then tell me your secret, oh mighty poker player."

"It wouldn't be a secret if I told you, now would it?" He teased, his lips crooking into the half-smile he knew she adored.

Lisbon gave a deep sigh and hugged her knees to her chest, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. "_When_ will you just admit you're only good at cheating?"

"I object." He set the cards down on the mattress beside him and slowly crawled towards her crouched form. "I'm good at many, _many_ things, love."

The hair on the back of her neck stood on edge when she felt his fingers curl ever so gently around her wrists. "Want me to remind you?"

Lisbon couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips. "I'm tired," she muttered, eyes still shut as she sensed him move even closer.

"Well, then." He sounded mildly disappointed, but the amusement was still there. "We can play another round, and then I'll let you sleep. I have to prove you I _am_ a better player."

She opened her eyes and fixed them on his smirking face. She raised her eyebrows -she had never fully mastered the art of arching just one, in that perfect, sly way of his. He laughed at her expression, which she imagined was a mixture of fatigue, glee and provocation.

"No, I said I'm tired," she said, albeit half-heartedly.

"Oh, come _on_. It won't take long -I promise, I'll win this one quickly."

Lisbon huffed in an attempt to stifle a chuckle. "No. I got work tomorrow."

"What if I let _you_ win this time?" He offered with a wide smile.

"No, _cheater_." She sighed. "I really have to get back home. I'm not kidding, I _do_ have a crazy day ahead."

His eyes widened in mock-disbelief. "How can you refuse my offer to let you win? If you were smart, love, you wouldn't pass on this. It might be your only chance to beat me."

Lisbon closed her eyes again and rested her head on the headboard with a deep sigh. The words left her mouth before she knew it - "God, you're just like Jane."


	4. You Don't Understand

**4. You Don't Understand**

When Jane walked into her office that evening, Lisbon had her nose buried in a huge stack of folders, case files and memos, her groggy pen flying over the crisp white and beige pages leaving hasty sentences and blotchy signatures behind.

He gave a soft knock on her open door, more for the sake of appearances than anything else, and promptly invited himself in. Lisbon didn't have to look up from her paperwork to know he had his usual teacup at hand and a wide grin plastered on his face.

After so many years as her partner, Jane had become, if not an open book, at least considerably easier to figure out than he was when they first met. Lisbon could tell, almost always correctly, whether his cheery smile was genuine or merely a pretense.

She'd also come to know that, most of the times when he walked into her office on his own accord, his grin was perfectly sterling.

"What is it, Jane?" she uttered, her voice coming off weary. She'd had a long week, filled with gruelling interrogations, car chasing, elusive suspects, Jane's deft yet troublesome concoctions and the inevitable paperwork after a case closed.

"Oh, nothing. I was wondering whether you'd like some tea... You sure seem like you could use a nice steamy cup."

Lisbon rolled her eyes and continued her scribbling and signing, deliberately avoiding his gaze. "It's been a rough week," she drawled, fully aware of his inspection of the dark circles around her eyes.

"It sure has." She heard him push several of her files aside and perch himself on the corner of her desk. "Very eventful, though. It was a hard case, indeed."

"But, thanks to your infallible sixth sense and your absolute disregard for the CBI rules, we managed to solve it." It was meant to be an admonition, but her fatigue got the best of her and it came out as a tired acceptance of a simple fact.

Jane gave a soft chuckle. "Who would have thought we'd stumble upon competing killers?"

"It's not funny, Jane," Lisbon said sternly, finally lifting her eyes to him. "We had a casualty during the case."

He shook his head, apparently unfazed by this. "He was one of the killers, Lisbon."

"So? Does that mean he deserved to _die_?" Lisbon knew that perhaps he did – after all, he _had_ committed a rather violent murder and had left a widowed woman on the verge of insanity...

...but her own question brought a certain someone to her mind, and, wanting to think of anything but him, she was quick to change the subject before Jane could open his mouth to reply.

"It's only weird that we got away without any lawsuits from Mrs. Lockwood. I doubt she'll ever forget what you did to her parlor."

Jane shrugged. "Nah, she has money, she'll repair the damage. She ought to be happy -we caught her godson's murderer, after all."

Lisbon shook her head and returned to her paperwork, thinking of how good it'd be if she could sprout a third hand just for the hour and finish this thing apace. She needed some serious sleep time.

"Lisbon?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to go out for dinner?"

Her hand stilled, the pen hovering above a still empty slot she was supposed to fill with her signature and the CBI stamp. She raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

"_Dinner_, Jane?"

He nodded, a cheery yet undoubtedly uncertain smile forming on his lips. He gave her an expectant look, and she slumped back in her chair, her files momentarily forgotten.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" she asked incredulously, her brain working hard to decipher a motive behind his proposition.

"Yes, and I happen to know a beautiful small restaurant, very quaint, that opens in exactly half an hour. It's for the late-goers, it truly is nice, we should definitely give it a try. It's only ten minutes by car from here."

She squinted at him, deciding not to ask how he knew of this restaurant she had no idea existed. "Why would you want to go out for dinner _tonight_, of all nights?"

Jane gave a small shrug that she guessed was meant to make her believe he was in fact quite nonchalant, but did nothing to convince her of that. "You seem really troubled lately. I don't know if it's just the tough cases... but I wanted to do something nice for you... To cheer you up. So, what do you say?"

She stared at him, speechless. She had hoped she didn't look as upset as she felt these past few weeks, but clearly she had failed in putting up her own facades. Perhaps Jane was right after all, and she _was_ a terrible liar.

That wasn't what unsettled her, though.

The thought of him wanting to cheer her up, to go out of his way in order to do something pleasant for her, something that would make her happy, was almost too much to bear at the moment. It wasn't that she wanted him to be crestfallen himself – on the contrary, she cherished the moments when he would laugh and smile and mess around, carefree and joyful.

But this... She was suddenly aware of how she didn't deserve it, not at all. As much as she wanted to believe that she did, as much as she wanted to let herself forget about everything else and keep only Jane in her mind and in her life, even for just a night, she knew she couldn't.

And even if she miraculously found a way to shut everything (and everyone) else away, she knew reality _would_ find its way through the cracks of her tottery, fictitious little castle of provisional happiness. And when that happened, everything would come down harder than she could ever be able to manage.

She didn't want this.

She knew it was probably the most selfish out of her farrago of selfish thoughts, but she couldn't risk the thin balances she'd struggled to create through the years between her work, her lover and her friend (who was, alarmingly, becoming more than a friend) for the sake of said friend's happiness - or her own.

But she also knew she didn't deserve _his_ efforts to make _her_ happy.

But he would never understand that, and she would never try to explain.

It would destroy them both.

"I'm sorry, Jane," she said softly. "I can't."


	5. My Baby Shot Me Down

_A.N/ I guess this one is open to interpretation... Perhaps, if you'd like, this little one-shot will have its sequel and prequel somewhere inside the story, so that you will understand what happened, and also how and why it did, and what follows. Just let me know if you'd like to see that, because I'm still uncertain as to whether I should write it._

_Reviews are love._

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**5. My Baby Shot My Down**

"I'm sorry."

She pretended not to have heard him. Without so much as look at him, she grabbed a mug and made her way to the coffee maker, with slow, determined steps.

She had decided to be as apathetic as possible.

The kitchen was quickly filled with the smell of fresh flat white latte. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for just a moment, hoping that the pleasant odor would make her feel better. Coffee almost always seemed able to do that, especially in the early mornings.

She pulled the hem of her oversized jersey lower down her thighs and carefully sat down behind the marble counter furthest from the kitchen table where she had seen him perching. The action made her wince slightly but she effectively recovered her mask of nonchalance.

"_Teresa_..."

She ignored his pleading tone, focusing on the burning sensation of the scalding coffee sliding down her throat instead as she took her fist tentative sip. She tried to recall the list of suspects on her team's current case -anything to keep her mind busy until her clothes were out of the dryer and ready for her to wear so she could finally leave for work.

"I made you breakfast. Pancakes with honey, and strawberry muffins. I know you love these."

Lisbon still refused to meet his eyes, but she wondered whether the look in them would be as apologetic as his voice sounded. Hell, she didn't care. This time he had crossed the line.

"Teresa, I said I'm sorry-"

"And is that supposed to make everything okay?" She snapped, setting her mug down on the counter surface with a loud thud. She finally turned her gaze to him -he was slumped in one of the chairs, looking tired and unkempt, as if he hadn't slept in weeks.

_Good, _she thought. _He ought to at least _look_ upset after everything._ Her next thought was - _how, _how_ did I let this happen? Why on earth did I just sit back and allowed this?_

"No, it isn't-"

"Well, at least you understand _that_. I guess you could call that progress on your part." She rose abruptly and her cup toppled over, its content spilling all over the white marble and soaking her gray jersey. She felt the hot liquid burn against her skin but did her best to ignore it, focusing on the rapidly changing color of her nightshirt instead. _That will surely stain_, she thought, but found she didn't give a damn.

"Where are you going?"

"_To change_!" Her voice was uncharacteristically shrill. "And leave this fucking place and go to _my_ house, and then to work."

He didn't try to stop her as she stormed out of the kitchen and straight up to their -no, _his_- bedroom to get her underwear. Maybe he knew it would be futile, or maybe he just didn't care. She decided not to bother herself with it.


	6. Sparks Fly

_A.N/ Abandon hope all ye who enter here... for you will find Jisbon. Okay, I don't know about you, but I really wanted to write something between Lisbon and Jane other than angsty denials, so this happened. I'm not sure if I like how it turned out, but I thought I could use some lighter situations between these two before I start with Lisbon/RJ again. _

_Also, I wrote a small prequel to Chapter 5, which will be posted in a few days (it is not this chapter, or the one I'll post next, but don't worry, I'll let you know which one it is. I think you'll understand on your own, anywyay)._

_Thank you all for reading, and many special thanks and hugs to everyone who's taken the time to review._

_x_

**6. Sparks Fly**

A deep sigh fell from his lips, accompanied by the subtle shuffle of fabric as he rearranged himself in Lisbon's worn out, raggedly woven quilts.

"This _has_ to be the most boring detective show in the history of television," he said in disdain, lifting his gaze to the ceiling and slumping back against the couch pillows with a muffled thump.

Lisbon gave him a soft nudge. "Oh, sush. Just because they haven't found the killer yet – hey, don't take the blanket all to yourself!"

"Come on, you can't _really_ call this a blanket."

Lisbon huffed in annoyance. "It was my great grandmother's, okay? Also, it wouldn't hurt if you just _pretended_ to be a little bit more interested in what we're watching."

With an exasperated roll of his eyes, Jane threw his arm up in a gesturing motion towards the TV screen before letting it fall heavily on his lap again. "Really, Lisbon? The killer was made blatantly obvious in the first few seconds of the episode. Now is there anything interesting for me to watch? Anything at all? I only wonder what the script writers were thinking."

A crooked smile creased across Lisbon's lips. "Well, clearly this show isn't made for genius crime solvers like you. I'm certain the producers are aiming at a far more mediocre viewing audience, namely, the rest of Earth's population."

"Oh, come on Lisbon, you too knew who the killer was the moment you saw him. Even a ten-year-old child would figure this out eventually, way before these TV-cops could ever hope to."

Lisbon shrugged. He wasn't wrong. "At least the protagonists make a good couple."

Jane gave a small nod, followed by a dismissive sigh. "Sure, they're both quite attractive, but they have no chemistry at all."

"They can't be all lovey-dovey in the middle of solving a case, Jane, and, besides that, he's her boss! They can't just... oh, whatever," she huffed out, averting her eyes from his and turning them back to the TV. She could feel an unwelcome blush slowly starting to spread across her face following her previous rebuff to Jane's statement.

Jane apparently noticed her discomfort and, thankfully, he was quick to change the subject, though of course he could only choose something he knew would annoy Lisbon, and _of course_ he'd dress it up with layers of mock dispassion.

"Okay, we've seen enough of this parody of a crime series, now give me the remote control," he deadpanned, holding his arm out towards her with his palm open.

Lisbon frowned. "No way, Jane. I want to see how it ends."

He gave an exasperated sigh. "Be serious, Lisbon, we both know how this ends. They'll figure out the waiter Malcolm is the murdered, they'll catch him, the protagonists will have some sort of a flirty banter and credits will roll. Now give me the remote."

"No," Lisbon said flatly, shaking her head. "You were the one who decided to watch this in the first place anyway."

"Yes, but I had no idea it'd turn out like this. Don't be a child, Lisbon, give it to me."

She only smirked and held the remote tighter in her hand. Pissing Jane off was something not many people could do, and she was definitely not among those who had somehow managed to achieve this infeasible task. Now that she had her chance, she wasn't going to pass on it.

"Nope," she chimed defiantly, chin held high in the air and arms wrapped tightly around the remote.

"Give it to me, Lisbon. I'd chose the _easy_ way if I were you, you know _I_'ll have it either way," he drawled, as though he wasn't particularly interested in what was happening, however Lisbon could decipher turmoil battling with amusement behind his brilliant eyes.

"Oh yeah?" she challenged, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Please, tell me how you're planning to overpower a trained officer of the law."

Turning so that he was fully facing her, Jane slowly crawled out of Lisbon's quilts and gave her a sly little smirk. "I have my ways," he said softly, and Lisbon scoffed.

"Right... you surely are a – _hey_!" She pulled back as if burned, her eyes widening as realization dawned on her. "You _wouldn't_ _dare_."

His smile turned into his trademark cunning, mischievous grin. "Oh, you know I would. Now hand it over before I make you, agent Lisbon."

She shook her head firmly. "No, there is no way in hell, Jane. We'll watch-"

She was cut mid-sentence as a fit of giggles erupted from her and she slumped backwards into her couch. "Jane, don't – stop this right now, I'm not kidding!"

His grin only widened, if that was possible, as Lisbon erupted in laughter once again. His fingers left her bare feet, only to come and rest against her hipbones.

"No, Jane, not there, you know I-"

Another set of giggles left her mouth as he mercilessly tickled her, he too laughing as he demanded she pry her arms open so that he could have the remote. In between fits of laughter and breathless gasps, Lisbon managed to shake her head in defiance, but she could feel her grip on the object faltering as Jane's deft fingers now targeted her exposed neck.

Before she knew it, Lisbon was trapped underneath him, the remote had already fallen from her hands on the floor and they were both still, their breathing coming out ragged.

"Told you not to challenge me," he said in a soft, breathless voice. His thump gently brushed against her cheek and Lisbon involuntarily leaned into his touch.

"Who says I didn't let you?" she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper albeit lacking the knavery she had hoped for. Her eyes, refusing to obey to her brain's commands, fell to his smiling lips.

"I know you didn't."

They stared at each other for several long, breathless seconds, before she tilted her head upwards to press her lips to his.


	7. Beauty In Pain

**7. Beauty In Pain**

She wasn't accustomed to this. She had chased, tackled and cuffed men twice her size countless times, yet right now it seemed oddly paradox, to be in this position of power.

She moved her hips, slowly, tentatively, and stilled abruptly when she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"_Don't stop_..." He tilted his head back, eyes closed and hands pulling at the metal cuffs that held them securely against the wooden headboard.

She wasn't thinking of stopping; but she wasn't entirely sure how to proceed, either. Control wasn't new to her, but this amount of dominance over him certainly was.

She hadn't pursued this, not really – it was all a result of an idiotic bet she had surprisingly won. And now he was entirely at her mercy, though she was almost certain he had deliberately lost.

She leaned forward, the look in her eye half determined, half hesitant (feline, he'd always called it), and placed her lips gently against his throat, feeling the frantic pulse underneath the smooth skin. With renewed confidence, she resumed her earlier motion, only this time just a little faster, just a little more forceful.

A throaty moan resonated in the dark bedroom, and she couldn't help but smile against his skin. Her lips traced a fervent, moist path upwards until they met his to coax him into a slow, fervid kiss. When she finally pulled back and let her eyes rest on his face, her breath caught in her throat.

She had always thought him attractive, but in this moment, he was something more... He was in the most perfect, most blissful agony, and he was _beautiful_.

x

_A.N/ Drabble time, it seems... I'm not particularly confident about this one, but I guess I didn't feel like writing a longer chapter... so short it is! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this... There is more Jisbon and even more Lisbon/RJ to come... And yes, Lisbon will have to make a choice, eventually. But we'll see._

_Thank you!_


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